


time was never on your side(or mine)

by pumpkinpickles



Category: One Piece
Genre: Other, timetravel!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 16:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2514527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinpickles/pseuds/pumpkinpickles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Donquixote Corazon meets Trafalgar Law, he is still hurting and has no more room left in his heart for a child who has forgotten love like he has. </p><p>He has not yet forgotten the pain of arrows embedding itself in his soft flesh, of fresh blood running down his wrecked body hung up by the wrists locked in iron cuffs, of the searing pain the villagers inflicted. The anger has consumed him, and he is no less a monster than his brother is.</p><p>So he hardly bats an eye when Doflamingo makes the rings of grenades wrapped around the boy’s frail frame explode with a simple flick of a hand; ignores the hoarse screams from the dying boy.</p><p>His eyes are hard as steel, and not even a pang of remorse pains his frozen heart.</p><p>Doflamingo’s laughter fills the room as he flings the boy mercilessly out, shutting the door in the face of a charred boy who’s eyes are filled with stabbing hatred he spits at.</p><p>Like this, the ending reaches before the story can even begin.</p><p>In loop number zero, Corazon never learns the boy’s name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	time was never on your side(or mine)

**Author's Note:**

> i tried my hand at writing a CoraLaw time travel AU ahah;;; Enjoy! uvu

The first time Donquixote Corazon meets Trafalgar Law, he is still hurting and has no more room left in his heart for a child who has forgotten love like he has.

He has not yet forgotten the pain of arrows embedding itself in his soft flesh, of fresh blood running down his wrecked body hung up by the wrists locked in iron cuffs, of the searing pain the villagers inflicted. The anger has consumed him, and he is no less a monster than his brother is.

So he hardly bats an eye when Doflamingo makes the rings of grenades wrapped around the boy’s frail frame explode with a simple flick of a hand; ignores the hoarse screams from the dying boy.

His eyes are hard as steel, and not even a pang of remorse pains his frozen heart.

Doflamingo’s laughter fills the room as he flings the boy mercilessly out, shutting the door in the face of a charred boy who’s eyes are filled with stabbing hatred he spits at.

Like this, the ending reaches before the story can even begin.

In loop number zero, Corazon never learns the boy’s name.

 

* * *

 

 

The sixtieth time Donquixote Corazon meets Trafalgar Law, he has grown to like the boy.

Law is tolerable, he decides. Smart, cunning and recklessly brave. Caring and soft-hearted, even if he doesn’t show it much.

(Thawing his heart that froze over at the beginning of his end.)

However, Law doesn’t manage by himself well.

It starts out small, like constantly tripping over his feet or spilling tall armful of books.

And as the disease manifests and his health deteriorates, it only gets worse.

He’s found having nosebleeds at random, numerous times of the day, collapsing in corridors and wheezing heavily whenever he talks too fast or walks too long.

It worries Corazon, so much that he becomes an inseparable being from Law, hovering and anxious. It annoys the little medical prodigy, who shoves and pushes at his personal mother hen, complaining loudly at the way Corazon looks at him like he can’t take care of himself; he’s a doctor, now go away!

But Law does not protest when Corazon tucks him in, hums lullabies to distract him from the pounding headaches and bone-numbing pain. Law never shifts away when Corazon stokes his head gently to ease his way into dreamless sleep either, so Corazon doesn’t think Law hates his coddling as much as he snappily claims to be.

One day, Corazon finds Law asleep before his bedtime; his blood the bed and his pillow scattered pills.

In loop number sixty, Corazon learns the boy’s name, grows to love it and grieves for days on end for all it stands for.

 

* * *

  

The two hundred and twenty fifth time Donquixote Corazon meets Trafalgar Law, Law does not arrive.

Half the day goes by watching the second hand move one irritating tick after another and chewing on his abused thumbnail.

He feels the dread curdling like sour milk in the pit of his stomach, and when the second hour passes from the time that he is supposed to hear the familiar faint tack of shoes and loud slam of door, he decides it’s enough.

Jumping up, he makes his way out of the door just as Doflamingo strides in, barely catching an item that his brother tosses flippantly in his direction.

His fingers curl around soft, cushy material, eyes are drawn to the brown giraffe-like spots that line the hem of the cap, nose crinkles at the acrid smell of smoke and death---

And his heart drops.

_“A souvenir, from a country that fell like we did. In shame, and pain beyond belief.”_

In loop number two hundred and twenty five, Corazon learns that living without the owner of the name whose smile rivalled his mother’s is too much to bear; marks number two hundred and twenty five the first of the many short-lived loops to come.

  

* * *

 

The nine hundredth and ninety-fourth time Donquixote Corazon meets Trafalgar Law, he nearly makes it.

He slides out his gun with ease, barely sparing the overhanging lights a glimpse. He knows when and where the bullets will hit, down to the exact second and place; one point five seven seconds after he fires at the weak spot just beside where the third decorative swirl of metal ends.

Plunging the room into utter darkness, an instant pandemonium and frightened chaos erupts from the pirates. Corazon shifts through the crowd steadily, barely brushing against anyone, tilted at just the right angle learnt from experience and one too many bullets nearly made through his head.

With a swift punch that knocks the man who yells for the lights own lights out, Corazon knows from his mental script-unconsciously composed due to the many times he’s heard it repeat-that it is his cue to swoop down and grab the Devil Fruit.

Motions made fluid by the numerous repetitions, Corazon crosses the room and crashes out the window with practiced ease. He tosses one last lighted match over his shoulder, knowing it will land on a discarded napkin that eventually grows into a fiery monster, devouring the house and all its inhabitants.

He holds the delicate heart-shaped fruit to his chest, stepping carefully, cringing at the memory of how he nearly died in the two hundredth and forty-seventh loop because he slipped on a patch of ice. _God_ , he did _not_ want to deal with five loaded guns in his face all over again due to a moment’s folly.

Time is of essence, he reminds himself, and an image of a shivering boy with white spots that eats up his dark flesh, flashes in his mind.

His steps get faster, heart begins thudding harder and grips the fruit closer to him.

No, he will not let Law die. He has the cure now, he can save him, can help him, like how Law saved him all those years ago.

The secluded corner comes to view and he breaks into a sprint, adrenaline pumping through his veins, feeling his lips twitch upwards in a celebratory grin.

He sees the dull brown of the blanket before the small figure curled in it and _something doesn’t feel right_.

Skidding to a stop before the blanketed boy, a knee drops to the ground.

“Hey, Hey, Law!! Wake up, I got the Ope Ope no Mi, I can save you!”

The howling wind responds to his yell of rejoice on Law’s behalf, whipping the tails of his hat into his face and sending the loose feathers in his coat dancing freely as it billows by.

And as it moves over and around the shell of his ears, caressing them before whistling softly into the distance, he hears,

_“You should have come sooner.”_

With the wind’s nudge, the mound of blankets topple to a side; a blanket slides loose, revealing a thin, trembling arm that slides out from beneath the sheets’ warmth.

_No no no no **no no no---**_

Corazon falls onto both his knees, scrambling forward. He sinks fully into the snow, uncaring of the sharp chills it sends shooting up his scrawny legs. He just needs to get to Law, get him out of the godforsaken snow right now _right now right **now-!**_

Soon he has Law cradled in his arms, his little form shivering like how Corazon’s loose coat feathers are fluttering in the wind, face flushed, brows creased and skin paler and colder than Corazon has ever known. His breaths come in shallow pants, and Corazon looks with horror at how the blankets above his chest are hardly even moving. Law’s head lolls into the crook of Corazon’s arm, his body limp and unresisting even as Corazon instinctively curls around him.

Corazon leaves butterfly touches all over Law’s face, as though afraid Law would shatter into millions of fragments the minute he applied force.

“Wake up Law, wake up, wake up…! Not go yet, please! Law…!” Corazon pleads, like how he’s done in hundreds of other loops, only this time it’s different, he actually has the cure, still has Law, still has hope.

And like an answer to his prayers, Law’s eyelashes flutters as his eyes creak open just the slightest.

“Cora…san…,” He breathes, and Corazon nods furiously, murmuring affirmation, pressing him closer to his body, hoping, _hoping_ for Law to snuggle into the tight embrace.

But he does not.

All Law does is offer him a weak smile, the barest upwards curve of lips and a phrase.

“…Thank…you….”

Then he sighs, and it takes a long while for the former heart executive to realise Law’s chest is no longer rising.

Corazon sits there, as still as a statue. The snow is soaking his pants and seeping into his boots, but the cold is easy to ignore with the familiar, agonising pain that’s blossoming where his heart should be numbing him.

_Why did you leave him out in the cold he was sick vulnerable weak and you left him you left him alone how could you how could you it’s all your fault it always is you could’ve saved him could’ve done better you failure **failure failure**_

His eyes stare blankly at the boy who lies in his lap, an exhausted but somehow content look painted on his normally unmoving face. There is no sudden rush of emotions, no pleads to the celestial beings above _to bring him back oh god **bring him back**_ **_bring back the boy who gave everything he had to a world that gave him nothing but grief in return_**

Strangely, he feels nothing; only an aching, awning emptiness is left deep inside. Corazon breaths slowly, carefully, willing for the tears he ran out of three hundred and two loops ago.

He’s tired. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, he bends over Law, pressing his warm forehead against Law’s cold, cold one. 

“Sorry, Law.”

In loop number six hundred and ninety-four, Corazon holds onto the boy who’s constantly beaten by the one thing he controls until frost starts biting his bare skin and allows the harsh storm to cry in his stead.

 

* * *

 

 

The two millionth, seven hundred thirty-two thousandth, nine hundred and sixth time Donquixote Corazon meets Trafalgar Law, it will be his last.

He will have forgiven the demons of his past and recognised with a sinking heart the twisted being his brother has become and aims to shape him to be, but he will not falter, will not bend and break before he has saved the boy he’s lived decades of looping ten months for.

At the start, he will arrive late, crash on the floor, burn himself on black tea and fling Law out the window. The flinch at the loud crash of flesh meeting metal is hard to mask, but he clenches his fists and grits he teeth and bears it, because he knows Law will _survive._

When the time comes, he lies to protect, deceives to reveal, and runs to cure.

With tenacity he’s learnt from a dying boy whose dreams and plans for future are bigger and brighter than anything Doflamingo has planned or Fate has dictated for him, he pushes on, grabs the protesting boy on a long, arduous journey that revisits torment and surfaces painful memories better forgotten.

Towards the end, he will have written new meanings to a life once detested _(I love you, I’ll protect you, you have me, never alone)_ , replaces a name’s torturous memories with treasured ones _(they never blamed you, it wasn’t your fault, glad you survived, would have wanted you to live on, they love you, never forget that),_ fills it with renewed, bursting love which helps remember the love that died with a city riddled with corpses whose tears had not yet dried and bestows the name a significance heavy for both _( **my son** ) ._

As he watches the boy who has been fighting his body’s time limit since the day his city crumbled scarf down the heart shaped fruit, Corazon smiles.

It is only the beginning, he knows, for this child, who will replace his dreams crushed by the government and cruel reality with bigger and bolder ones.

The child who will eventually grow into the man who discovers there is more to life than eagerly awaiting the day he does not wake up to the gulls, who will find friends and companions willing to go to Hell and back for him, who will fight for the future Pirate King that gives him the conviction to live on and down the bitter concoction a kind hearted reindeer offers after sleepless nights of research.

In loop two million, nine hundred thirty-eight thousand and one hundred, Corazon gives his life for the boy who is meant for so much more than he believes he deserves, and never regrets the decision to die for the boy he calls his son.


End file.
